


Blue Marble

by orphan_account



Category: Night at the Museum (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-26 01:23:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3831937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Octavius is self-conscious of his scars. Jedediah makes him feel a little better about them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Marble

The bathhouse was empty when Octavius walked in. The marble benches were dry and bare, the floors unmarked as he walked across them to the large pool in the center of the hall. The sculpture of Jupiter towered over the empty Roman bathhouse like an overbearing spectre as he undressed, as if it’s presence was too great and too powerful to be housed in such empty space. It was not usual for the place to be so deserted, but it suited Octavius just fine for this particular moment. The rest of the diorama were enjoying some spectacle in the Coliseum, and his personal guards were instructed to let no-one in to the bathhouse, assuring him of no disturbance. 

He slid into the hot water with a sigh. How the Western diorama could do without baths was something beyond Octavius’ understanding. Jedediah had point blank refused to even consider entertaining the thought of going to the Roman baths with Octavius, claiming that the cold showers of the Western diorama were comfortably private and were perfectly adequate for washing, thank you very much. Octavius, having seen the cobweb and dirt infested shower stalls that Jedediah and the western folk used, disagreed completely, but he could not fault Jedediah’s need for privacy. He himself used his Imperator’s influence every time he used the baths, though perhaps not for the same reasons as Jedediah. 

Octavius reached his arm around himself and touched a raised crescent-shaped scar that sat on his shoulder. This one was a recent one, gained during a mishap in a duel only a few weeks ago. He did not need to look down on himself to know that his body was littered with more of such marks, some long and thin, some fat and craggy. He hated these blights on his body with an ardent passion, and took great care to keep them concealed at all times. Even in his burgeoning relationship with Jedediah, he shied away from removing any of his armour. Jedediah was being incredibly patient with him, and had accepted that boundary without question, but Octavius was still awkward about it, fearing what Jedediah would think of them. 

He looked up at the large, encroaching statue of Jupiter. It was clear what his people would think of his scars. It was evident that Jupiter, in all his might and glory, would’ve gotten scars in his many battles, and yet the Roman sculptors did not see fit to adorn his body with a single one. Many statues in the Roman diorama were the same, and those with marks from a slipped chisel were considered faulty, and were broken down for use elsewhere. There was no place for imperfection in Rome. 

A flaw was a flaw no matter what material it was on. 

A few minutes into his bath, he heard a small but clear bang echo from somewhere outside of the building. Octavius opened his eyes, and looked towards the door, but his guards did not come in to warn him of any fatal calamity, so he relaxed a little. Then it happened again, and again. There were sounds of a scuffle, before silence. Octavius was just about to sink back into the warm water when he heard the very clear sound of boots hitting marble, sounding far less measured than the controlled gait of his guards. 

“I thought I said no-one was to be admitted.” Octavius called out, sinking a little deeper into the water so that his body was hidden beneath the rising steam. 

“I ain’t just no-one, am I?” A familiar western voice replied. Octavius turned, his eyes running up the chap-clad legs, across the buckle of the leather waistcoat, up to the long blonde hair of the intruder, who had his back to him. 

“Jedediah.” Octavius said, surprised. “What are you doing here?” 

“Came to find you.” Jedediah replied, still with his back to him. “We’ve got that staff meeting. You haven’t forgotten that, have you?” 

“I didn’t forget. I just thought I’d bathe before going.” Octavius eyed Jedediah’s turned back, before turning back around and sinking back into the water. “You can turn around, if you wish.” 

Octavius heard Jedediah turn around, and tried to relax. He listened as Jedediah paused for a moment, before a few thumps indicated he had kicked off his boots. Octavius felt hands guiding his head, encouraging him to lean back, and he looked into the soft baby blue eyes of his partner. A smile encouraged Octavius to lay his head back against his bare, crossed ankles, before he began to run his fingers through the wet curls. Octavius closed his eyes, leaning into touch with a sigh, being certain to keep his shoulders beneath the water. 

“I thought you Romans all bathed together.” Jedediah said after a little while, his hands pausing in his hair. “Why did you lock everyone out?” 

“Just wanted some privacy. Perks of being an Imperator.” Octavius gave Jedediah a hesitant smile, but he could see Jedediah was not fully convinced by the half-truth. He hastened to distract the man. “Talking of which, how did you get in?” 

“I asked someone where you were, an’ one of the guards said you were here, but he wouldn’t let me in. So I... got some of the boys to cause a scene, and when the guards came to see what was going on, I sneaked in.” 

“Very sneaky.” 

“I thought so myself.” Octavius could almost see Jedediah puffing out his chest in pride behind him. He closed his eyes again as Jedediah resumed his ministrations, feeling himself melting into the talented hands. He attempted to keep his body concealed under the water as much as possible, but the warm safeness of Jedediah’s company made him careless. The tops of his shoulders peaked out above the steam, and he should not have been surprised when Jedediah’s hands left his hair, and trailed down his neck and across his shoulders. He tried to stay relaxed, but Jedediah, for once in his life foregoing his normal feigned obtuseness, picked up on the tension as he ran his fingers over one particular half-moon scar. 

“Hey, are you alright?” Jedediah asked, concern lacing his tone of voice as he stopped his hands where they were. “Is this one still sore?” 

“No, no…” Octavius replied. “I just… don’t touch them. Please.” 

“Alright.” Jedediah moved his hands back into his hair. “You gonna tell me why, or…?” 

“I... don’t like them. We all have things we don’t like about ourselves.” 

“Yes, but...” Jedediah paused, and Octavius could feel the realization dawn on the cowboy. “That’s why you’re keeping everyone out, isn’t it? You don’t want anyone seeing them. You hate them that much, boy?” 

“Jed, please.” Octavius pleaded, moving a little so that Jedediah no longer touched him. “Leave it be.” 

“Leave it be?! Ockie, these are hurtin’ you, how can I leave it be?” 

“They don’t hurt-” 

“Maybe not in a touchy way, but they’re still hurtin’ you enough to make you ashamed o’ showin’ them.” 

“I’m not ashamed!” 

“Then what is it?!” Octavius refused to look at him. Jedediah let out a huff of breath in frustration, and Octavius could feel his eyes on him, filled with concern. 

“Come on, Ockie.” Jed said quietly. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.” 

“It’s just… it’s not proper for an Imperator to have scars on show.” Octavius finally murmured after a full minute of silence. “We are supposed to be strong. Infallible. Scars are a weakness, a blight. Why do you think all the statues here have no blemishes?” 

“There ain’t no shame in having a few marks, Ockie. Heck, you remember those ol’ Greek statues we saw at the British Museum? The ones with their feet and hands and noses missin’? People come to look at them like they look at us, and they say they’re beautiful.” 

“But they were made perfect!” Octavius cried out in frustration, hitting the water with his closed fist. “They were made to be perfect, and they weren’t broken by the mistakes they made-” Octavius cut himself off before he could finish the sentence, but the unsaid “like I am” reverberated in the rafters as if he had said the words aloud. He heard Jedediah sigh, before a rustle of clothing indicated he had gotten up and taken a few steps back. 

“Jed?” 

There was no reply, but it didn’t take long for Octavius to realise exactly what Jedediah was doing. There was more rustling, a pattering of feet, a shouted “Yee-haw!”, before he found himself hit by a tidal wave of water as Jedediah cannonballed into the bath. He sputtered and flailed for a moment, before cracking open an eye to see Jedediah stood naked, waist deep in the bath water, with the cheekiest grin on his features. 

“Was that really necessary?” Octavius asked, trying and failing to stop Jedediah’s infectious grin from gracing his own features. 

“Just wanted to make you smile, boy.” Jedediah replied, his impish grin softening to a slight smile. He waded forward, and pulled Octavius up into a standing position by his hands. Octavius could not keep his eyes off of Jedediah’s body - Jedediah did not frequent the baths at all, and this was the first time he had seen the man with no clothes. His eyes were immediately drawn to a craggy looking scar on Jedediah’s shoulder, one that extended from the peak of his shoulder down to the hollow between his collar bones. It was far angrier than any scar Octavius had on his body, and far messier too. Octavius did not realise he had reached out to soothe it until his fingertips were millimeters from the other man’s skin. 

“Sorry.” Octavius murmured, pulling his hand away quickly. Jedediah caught his hand, and put it back on his chest. 

“It’s alright. Now lookie here, boy-” he broke off, and sighed quietly as Octavius began tracing the scar with his fingertips. “you know I ain’t good at all this sappy stuff. But I can’t stand you talkin’ like this, when I what’s coming outta your mouth is a pile of horse manure. Now you listen-” Jedediah pulled Octavius closer, and pressed a quick kiss to his mouth when it looked like he was going to protest. “there ain’t nothing wrong with having a few scars. You think I’m ugly cause I’ve got this crater on my chest?” 

“It’s not a crater.” Octavius said sharply, lying his head on Jedediah’s shoulder. “It’s fine. You’re fine. Scars suit you - they make you look like you belong, like you’re some adventurer just waiting for the next big danger to turn up so you can go running into it.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Octavius felt Jedediah’s chest vibrate underneath his cheek as he laughed, and Octavius could not help but wryly grin in response, but it soon slipped away into the waters below. 

“But we all know you can’t be that. We all make mistakes. See, here?” Jedediah lay his hand across the hand that was tracing his scar, stilling its movements. “See that scar? I got that when I fell outta a tree. Dumbest thing I ever did, climbing that ol’ thing, knew it then and know it now, but I still did it. It took me a while to accept that I’d messed up, and it took me even longer to stop hating this thing. But making mistakes and getting hurt - these things makes us alive, in some sense of the word.” 

“I suppose...” Octavius murmured, but he still sounded dubious. Jedediah sighed, before dipping his head and pressed his lips to the little half-crescent scar that had brought on this mess. The fine tremor that had plagued his friends body at the gentle touch made Jedediah more eager to soothe his friends worries. He held Octavius flush against him, and continued pressing kisses against the warm, raised flesh until Octavius slowly, ever so slowly, relaxed into his arms. 

“We’re not perfect,” Jed continued, lifting his head and pressing a kiss to Octavius’ brow. “But we’re alright. You gotta remember, we’re not statues, Ockie. O’ course you’re pretty enough to be one-” Octavius flushed up at this, and Jedediah smiled against his skin at the reaction. “but I know you well enough to know you wouldn’t stay up on that plinth for more than five minutes - you’d get ants in your pants, boy, wantin’ to go on another adventure. These ol’ hurts are proof of how brave you are. They become you. And if anyone insists you’re any less of a man ‘cause of them, you send them to ol’ Jedediah, and he’ll truss ‘em up so good they won’t be walking straight ‘til next Tuesday.” 

Octavius laughed against his chest. “There is no need, but I thank you for the sentiment.” 

“It’s the truth.” 

“I do not doubt you believe your words.” 

“I do. And you’ll believe them too some day Ockie, trust me.” 

“...Maybe I shall. In time…” Octavius lifted his head from Jedediah’s shoulder, and gave him a sweet kiss, before leaning back and smiling mischievously up at him. “Now, since I’ve finally gotten you in here, how about we wash up before we go for this meeting?” 

“Are you saying I smell, Octavius?” Jedediah pouted, but his eyes sparkled with mirth, telling Octavius he was not offended. “At least I don’t smell as bad as Leroy - I don’t think he’s washed his long johns in a month…” 

As Jedediah left his embrace in search of some soap, Octavius could not help but smile. Maybe he should trust Jedediah. As hard as it was to believe, maybe he would learn to accept his scars one day. 

One day. 

  



End file.
